O ye of little faith
I sit huddled in my darkened room. The only thing illuminated is the headlamp shinning dimly on the words in front of me, “O ye of little faith.” Well, actually since it was the ESV version it probably said something slightly more in this century, but honestly when reading condemning words I always hear the KJV in my head.
“Why are you anxious? Why do you worry and fret about tomorrow? Today is enough trouble of its own.”
Its true. Today has been exceptionally hard. Having two families funding and both pulling their kids out of school, loosing a friend who works for us as she flees with her kids in fear of their lives, another mom sending off two of her children to live with distant relatives because she can’t afford to feed them and nearly two dozen parents angry and depressed their children didn’t get accepted in our school- is a full day for me. A low throb has ebbed and flowed through my cranium since 7 this morning. I refused medicine. My body needs to be strong.
Which leads me to the panic that began this letter. In two months time I will be reentering the world of America. Fear rushes over me as sweat clings to my crinkled brow. From third world to first world. The culture transition, leaving my friends and loved ones behind, leaving everything I have slowly cultivated with my blood, sweat and tears over the past four years, hoping it somehow continues to thrive without my nurturing hand- it is enough to stop the strongest of warriors leaving them clenching a wall for support. Or so I tell myself as I clutch the nearest sturdy object while grasping my chest.
Tonight, more even than all of this, I fear something simple and mundane. I fear not having a job. I know from the outside it may seem ridiculous. I am well educated, with a Master degree to prove it. I have experience and good recommendations. However, the what-ifs creep up. What-if I dont find a job for several months? What-if I cannot afford to live anywhere but my parents spare room? What-if I am overqualified for any small job and under qualified for any real job and thus stuck in the middle and nobody wants to hire me? What-if I cannot pay my student loans? What-if I have to go back to my 10 year high school reunion (which is next year by the way) and tell them I am a 26 year old, living with her parents and no real job? What if? What if? What if? The more what-ifs I go through, the more anxious I get. The more anxious I get the less I trust. The less I trust, the more the devil wins.
The Deceivers only power is to deceive. And the power is only gained if the lie is believed.
I can hear Pastor Chuck ,in the back of my mind, quoting Jeremiah 29:11, like he has done a thousand times since my youth. “I know the plans I have for you…”
Still though, my heart is not. It races and patters, it flips and flops. It cries out for some calming which I seemingly cannot bring it. I need prayer. I need warriors and soldiers and healers and seekers to come together for me. I need outstretched hands and open hearts. If there is anything I have learned here in Haiti it is that I cannot do this alone. So I seek you. Please, pray for me.